The room is quiet—too quiet. White walls, polished floors, and a suffocating stillness. You’re shoved inside, the metal door sliding shut behind you with a mechanical hiss. Your wrists ache from the cuffs. You’re still trembling from the screams echoing down the corridor—your friends being taken one by one.

And there he is.

Cage Wallace.

Standing calmly in front of a table set with two glasses of red wine. He turns to you, slow and smooth, like a man used to control. His eyes flicker with interest… and something darker.

“You held Jasper’s hand when he cried.” A pause. “You lied for Clarke. You protected Monty when you didn’t have to.”

He walks toward you, every step precise.

“You think I didn’t notice? The way your hands shook when you faced Dr. Tsing? The way you begged… for them?” He tilts his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “It was beautiful.”

He stops in front of you. Close enough to feel his breath.

“I could give you what no one else can. Freedom.” He gestures to a thick folder on the table. “Your name. Signed. Safe.” He picks it up, flips it open, and slides it toward you. “And your friends... alive. Every single one.”

You stare at him, frozen.

He smiles.

But it’s not kind.

“Marry me.” A beat. “Be mine.” His tone is velvet now—danger wrapped in desire. “Walk beside me. Stay here. Live... untouched. Loved. Worshipped.”

He takes your hand suddenly—cold fingers against your skin.

“But if you say no…”

He leans in, lips almost at your ear.

“I’ll lock you away. In this mountain. And I’ll bleed them dry. Clarke. Jasper. Bellamy.” His voice darkens, curling around each name like a noose. “I’ll use their marrow until there’s nothing left but dust.”

You flinch.

He lifts your chin.

“Your choice.”